


This world we still appreciate

by madalaena



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Mild Kink, Obedience, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 08:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18545926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madalaena/pseuds/madalaena
Summary: “I think it might be pretty romantic if you put your hand on my dick,” Alex says.Fuck, Dylan likes him. He loves him in a lot of ways and he likes him so much. “Oh yeah?” he asks. “Then why don't you make me?”





	This world we still appreciate

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Haha, yeah, I like Alex & Dylan from a distance but I can't really get into fic for them 
> 
> Me, two days later: *posts explicit Alex/Dylan pwp*
> 
> Title is from Capital Cities _Safe & Sound_

Dylan sleeps in Alex's bed the night they get back from Nashville. He has a room in Alex's condo and his own condo a few floors up that isn't finished but is habitable enough to crash in, but Alex doesn't stop him when he strips out of his sweats and crawls beneath his sheets. The maid service must not’ve come while they were gone, because when Dylan buries his face in the pillow it still smells like Alex’s shampoo.

 

“At least brush your teeth,” Alex calls from the bathroom. “Dylan, c'mon. You have airplane breath.”

 

Dylan groans. His body aches. His chest is stuttering, unweighted, and he's really hoping that with a little prodding Alex will come lay on top of him for a while and just keep him down. He doesn't want to get up. 

 

“That's not a real thing, you made that up,” Dylan says, not moving. Ralph wriggles up from the foot of the bed, nosing gently at Dylan's cheek and wuphing contentedly in Dylan's ear when he reaches down to give him a belly rub. 

 

“Holy shit, just brush your fucking teeth, you five-year-old,” Alex shouts around the sound of the running faucet and his own toothbrush shoved in his mouth. He's joking, but there's this edge to it like he's glad for a reason to yell at Dylan, no matter how stupid it is. Dylan gets it - they're keyed up, antsy. It's the weirdest end of a season Dylan's ever had, like they got interrupted in the middle of a run they'll never get to finish, like he's got all this momentum inside him just pounding against his ribcage, trying to find a way out. 

 

Dylan rolls out of bed and stomps into the bathroom, knocking the holder over when he grabs his toothbrush out of it. Alex looks at him mildly as he flosses his teeth. 

 

“Are you happy?” Dylan asks, waving the toothbrush around before he shoves it into his mouth. Alex nods, tossing the floss into the trashcan before he comes up behind Dylan and wraps his arms around him, pushing his face into Dylan's back. His arms look big around Dylan's middle, palm wide as it skirts down his belly to cup the gentle bulge in his underwear. 

 

“Oh my god, stop it. I'm not into your weird-ass foreplay,” Dylan says, spitting into the sink. He grabs the bottle of several-day-old yellow Gatorade sitting on the counter to rinse out his mouth. The taste is pretty fucking gnarly. 

 

“Dental hygiene is sexy,” Alex says. 

 

“It's really fucking not.”

 

“Maybe you doing what I say is sexy,” Alex amends. Dylan can feel him smile against his back. 

 

“I always do what you say,” Dylan says with a shrug. 

 

“Hmm. Let's see. Turn around,” Alex says. Dylan turns around in the loose grip of Alex's arms. The loss of Alex's palm on his swollen dick is abated by the pressure of his muscular torso. “Good.”

 

“See?” Dylan says. He nips the peak of Alex's ear, catching it with his lips first and then gently between his teeth. His hands cradle the bony jut of Alex's elbows. 

 

“Take off my shirt,” Alex continues, which - great, that's what Dylan was going to do next anyway. He pushes it up and over Alex's head and arms, tossing it to the side. Alex's body is nicer than his, all defined lines where Dylan still feels like he's growing into himself. Dylan slips his dick and balls over the waist of his boxers so he can rub up against the plane of Alex's abs. “Hey, now,” Alex warns. 

 

“That's called taking initiative,” Dylan tells him. There's a sticky-damp trail of precome in the scatter of hair across Alex's stomach. When he shifts, positioning Dylan's thigh between his own, Dylan becomes abruptly aware of how hard Alex is in his sweats. “I should get extra credit for that.”

 

“What if I didn't want your dick on my stomach?” 

 

“What if I didn't want your dick on my thigh?” Dylan asks, which is dumb because he pretty much wants Alex's dick any way he can get it. If Alex asked to teabag him right now, Dylan would probably say yes. 

 

Alex definitely knows this. He asks, “What if I said get on your knees and put my dick in your mouth?” Dylan hums, almost folding to the ground before Alex catches him by the waist. “No. Don't do that,” he murmurs, and: “kiss me.”

 

That's an easy one. Kissing Alex is something Dylan is very good at. Alex has a soft mouth made for slow, patient kisses, and Dylan is not a patient person but he’s learned to be for this: the wet drag of Alex’s tongue against his lips, his beard chafing Dylan’s cheeks, and a quiet exhale when Dylan gets it exactly right. Dylan could live here. He could bury himself here, in this feeling. In this person who knows him so well.  

 

“There,” Alex says, pulling away and wiping the flat of his thumb across Dylan’s lower lip. “Isn’t that better with minty-fresh breath?”

 

Dylan snorts. “Unbelievable. You fuckin’ eat my ass weekly, what do you care about how my mouth tastes?” 

 

“Believe it or not, I like that better when you wash your ass first, too,” Alex says with a grin. He yelps and folds in on himself when Dylan jabs his fingers in his most ticklish spot right beneath his ribcage, and retaliates by pinching Dylan's nipple hard. All that does is send a jolt of arousal all the way down to Dylan's toes. Dylan moans, breathy, so Alex does it with his teeth this time. 

 

“Is that what you want?” Alex asks, pressed softly into Dylan's chest. 

 

“I don't want you fucking chewing on my nipples all night if that's what you mean,” Dylan says.

 

Alex looks up at him this time when he says, “You want me to eat you out?”

 

He's is staring at Dylan, unashamed and curious. 

 

Dylan groans. Of course he wants that, but it's like - he can't shake this weirdness in his head, like the season's not really over, like Alex isn't leaving to visit his family in a handful of days, like Dylan doesn't have his own condo that he should be sleeping in. He doesn't fucking know what he wants.

 

“No, you don't have to. I mean - maybe. I don't, I don't know.”

 

“Hey.” Alex's voice is quiet. He catches Dylan's chin with his finger and thumb and beckons him in close. “Take off your boxers.”

 

Dylan does. 

 

“Take my dick out, now,” Alex says. Dylan's hands fumble with the drawstring of Alex's sweatpants, loosening them enough to tug his hard cock over the waistband. It's warm in his hand, sticky at the tip and the kind of thick that makes Dylan's hole clench. 

 

“What next?” Dylan asks.  

 

Alex has to clear his throat. “Lotion,” he says. 

 

Dylan reaches behind him for the pump bottle of Cetaphil Alex keeps on the counter. It's the same brand he's been using since juniors, the same kind they shared the very first time they sat on their hotel beds with the lights off and slicked up palms, pretending not to glance over at each other in the dark. It's been a long time since then. 

 

“We have, like. A history with this kind of lotion,” Dylan says, pumping some into Alex's hand before his own. “Erie to Chicago. Sixteen to twenty-one. Mutual masturbation to butt stuff.”

 

“And a lot of places and things in between,” Alex adds with a giggle, closing his hand around Dylan's cock. 

 

“Gosh, we are romantic as  _ fuck _ ,” Dylan says. “We could write their marketing campaigns.”

 

“I think it might be pretty romantic if you put your hand on my dick,” Alex says. 

 

Fuck, Dylan likes him. He loves him in a lot of ways and he likes him so much. “Oh yeah?” he asks. “Then why don't you make me?”

 

“Okay. Put your hand on my dick.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Dylan agrees. He’s easy. He grips it tight right at the head, just how Alex likes. 

 

It shouldn't feel this good - jacking each other off standing up in Alex's chilly bathroom, not quite enough lotion in Alex's palm and too much in Dylan's, fumbling because the angle's weird and Dylan's wrist has been nagging him on and off for a couple weeks - but it does. There's a climax building in Dylan's belly after just a few minutes. 

 

“Just - faster,” says Alex. He sounds close, too. It makes Dylan's head go swoopy to hear the fucked-out rasp of his voice. He obliges, speeding up the pass of his hand over Alex's cock. It has to almost hurt, but Alex likes that. 

 

Dylan whines when Alex thumbs over the head of his dick. “I’m pretty fucking close,” Dylan admits, thrusting helplessly into Alex’s grip. “Sorry, sorry, but I - I can’t - I’m pretty close, man.” 

 

“Oh, you're good, Dyl. Did real fuckin’ good tonight, dude.” Alex's voice is tight. “You should come now, babe, cause you’re about to make me come, too.” 

 

“ _ Fuuuuuck _ yeahhhh,” Dylan moans as his orgasm melts through him, pumping out in slow, syrupy waves that make him go all shivery, teeth clattering with each pulse of semen onto the palm of Alex’s hand. “Nnn, 's too much, too much.” He bats Alex's hand away when the contact becomes overwhelming. 

 

“Kay, okay, sorry. Just don't stop, Dyl. I'm right there. A little tighter.” He folds his jizz-covered hand around Dylan's, squeezing. Objectively, it feels pretty gross - lotion and his own come slimy against his skin, but in Dylan's fucked up brain it's unimaginably hot having Alex  _ show  _ him how he wants it. “Yeah, that’s it. You got it, dude.”

 

“Shut up,” Dylan says. “My wrist is killing me. Just shut up and come already.”

 

Alex huffs out a breathy laugh at that. A moment later, he folds into Dylan when he comes, hands slipping down to grasp the jut of Dylan’s hips, leaving a tacky trail of semen on his right side. He’s always much quieter than Dylan, nothing to give him away but gentle hitches in his breath and the stutter of his hips and the wet splash of come caught between Dylan’s fingers. 

 

“Oh, Jesus.” Alex’s voice is unsteady when he pulls away. He’s flushed high on his cheeks and his hair’s a sweaty mess going a thousand different directions. He’s so cute. 

 

“You’re so cute,” Dylan tells him helplessly. “Your hair looks like shit, though.” 

 

“Your everything looks like shit,” Alex says, shoving him aside so he can get to the sink to rinse his hands. “Don’t fucking talk to me about hair until you get the cut you needed a month ago.” 

 

Dylan laughs and takes his turn at the sink, grabbing a towel to wipe cursorily over his junk. “Hey, I think we’ve been sleeping on handjobs,” he says. They’ve been getting more experimental lately. They have the time and the proximity to be indulgent. “That was ten out of ten.” 

 

“I guess my instructions helped a lot,” Alex says with a shrug. Dylan socks him right in the shoulder. 

 

“Maybe it helps that I’ve been jerking your dick for four years, too,” he shouts as Alex escapes to the bedroom. 

 

He flips the light off in the bathroom and follows Alex, stripping the rest of the way out of his boxers and tossing them toward the hamper. Alex is already curled up on his side of the bed and Ralph has moved to his bed on the floor. The exhaustion that’s been edging in suddenly swamps over him. He collapses onto the mattress and tugs the sheets over himself, enjoying the cool cotton against his bare skin. 

 

“Hey,” Alex says, rolling over to face him. He cups his palm around Dylan’s cheek and Dylan kisses it, soft. It’s easy to not worry for a while when Dylan gets to have this. Next week, Alex is going to be in Michigan but it’s okay because he’ll be back and Dylan will still be here. 

 

“Hey back,” Dylan says, nudging Alex’s ankle with his cold toes. 

 

“Listen. It was a really great handjob,” Alex says, snagging Dylan’s hand in his and pressing them to his chest. “Ten out of ten.” 

 

“Yes, bitch,” Dylan crows. 

 

“Also. Go get me a glass of water.” 

 

Dylan snorts. “Nice try. That works better when I have a boner I want you to take care of.” 

 

“Worth a shot.” Alex smiles as he kisses him, sweet and open-mouthed. “Now go to sleep. I think maybe tomorrow we’ll be ready to work our way up to butt stuff.” 

 

“Oh wow, butt stuff,” Dylan says. He leans in for another kiss. “Mmm. Still minty-fresh.” 

 

Alex flicks his cheek. “Night, Dyl,” he says. Dylan rolls over, fitting himself against Alex’s body until Alex tosses an arm over his waist. It’s nice, here. It’s so nice.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Their friendship has wrecked me! This is true love!
> 
> Brand new shiny [tumblr](https://madalaena.tumblr.com/)


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